A Distant Smile
by Pinkchick
Summary: He could remember the last time they had truly been together. It was almost six months to the day. Somehow, taking care of their two children or duties to something or other always seemed to get in the way. Scott and Jean share a moment.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. Marvel™ does. I just like borrowing them for a little bit.

**Author's Note:** This story was inspired by another. It would be greatly appreciated if you left a review as I feed off of them! Thank you. I'm really proud of this story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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**A Distant Smile**

**By: Pinkchick**

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"I can't do this alone," Scott Summers muttered, his pacing making dirt tracks in the morning grass. "I'm just not cut out for this."

"Yes, you are," Jean answered calmly. "You underestimate yourself, Scott. You've been doing fine so far."

"No, I haven't," Scott said, rubbing his temples. "I've just been winging it. Storm's been doing all the, y'know, girl stuff." His wife just did not understand. It was not easy for him.

"And Nathan?" Jean asked, humor lacing her voice. "Has Storm been doing 'girl stuff' with him as well?"

Scott looked stricken before answering with an embarrassed and muttered, "No."

Jean laughed. "Scott, I've only been away for awhile. Someone has to take care of the kids in my absence," Jean explained. Her red hair blew in the soft morning wind.

"That's why Storm's the perfect person for the job," Scott said, running his hands through his brown hair and sighing. "I'm just―"

"―their father?" Jean asked, still amused as she watched her husband pace like a madman.

"Exactly," Scott confirmed, stopping his pacing. He ran his hands over the part of his face that was not covered by ruby quartz glasses. "It's…. Why does it have to be so hard?"

Jean sighed, stepping in front of Scott and taking his hands in hers. "Well, parenting never came with a 'To do' guide."

"Well, someone should write one," Scott fumed, inwardly cursing some poor soul who never bothered to give parents a child-rearing manual.

Jean smiled and gripped his hand in hers. "Walk with me," she whispered. Scott complied with only a nod of his head. She never even had to ask. Scott would have gladly walked to the ends of the earth for her and back.

Scott gripped Jean's hand more firmly. Glancing up into his face, she frowned. "You should get more sleep, Slim."

Scott laughed softly, but quickly became serious. "You can't even see my eyes, Red."

Jean just shrugged. "Don't think I need to see your eyes to know."

Scott marveled at the woman who was his wife. She always seemed to know everything he was thinking, without using her telepathy. Their bond was like no other. Scott knew Jean like the back of his hand and vice versa. He always loved her the more for it. They both fell silent after that. After walking along the wet morning grass, Scott finally stopped and sat down, bringing Jean down with him. They sat side by side, her head resting on his shoulder. Scott drew comfort in feeling her warmth so close to him and wrapped an arm around her.

"They miss you, y'know," Scott spoke after moments of silence.

"I miss them, too," Jean murmured.

"They don't understand why you're not there," Scott continued as though not listening to what Jean had said. "I just don't know what to tell them."

Jean just nodded. "They'll come to understand. They're smart kids."

"I know that," Scott said quietly, turning his head slightly to look at her. "I've missed you as well."

"Mm. But, I'm here now," Jean told him gently.

"Yeah, but it's still not the same." Scott ran an angry hand through his hair. "It's not fair that we only have such little time to be with each other."

"I know," Jean agreed, stopping his hand's movements through his hair. "I know," she repeated. The couple sat in silence afterwards. The grass they sat on was still fresh with dew, but it did not seem to bother them very much. The birds sang their morning song, while the sun began to show its face over the horizon. Scott thought it was one of the most peaceful mornings since he had last seen Jean.

He pulled the roses he had been holding at his side out and held them in front of Jean. "I brought these for you."

Jean took them, leaning in and smelling them. She smiled at her husband. It was a smile only reserved for him. "They're beautiful, Scott. Thank you." Jean plucked the top of one of the stems and placed the small rose in the pocket of Scott's shirt. Then, she gently laid down the roses onto the fresh grass in front of the pair.

"Yeah. Beautiful," Scott repeated, gazing only at Jean. She blushed under his gaze and turned to face the rising sun. Scott was grateful for a lot of things in his life. Jean, however, topped that list. She had always been the light flickering at his flame. Putting his weight onto his left arm, Scott tenderly brushed his right thumb against her right cheek. He felt her shiver under his touch and lean into it gently.

Scott always cherished these moments alone with his wife. Lately, they were far between. He could remember the last time they had truly been together. It was almost six months to the day. Somehow, taking care of their two children or duties to something or other always seemed to get in the way. Scott took in her scent and let it invade his nostrils. There had never been a certain type of smell when it came to her. They were always a mixture of smells that made up the essence of Jean.

She had smelled like that after they made love. Scott would hold her in his arms and draw small circles on her arms, breathing her in. He had never been good with words or expressing exactly how he felt for her. Scott assumed that there were not enough words in the English dictionary for him to express what Jean meant to him or how much he loved her.

It was only luck that she happened to be a telepath. Their bond had always been special. Scott could pour his emotions through her mentally. He knew that Jean had felt what he was giving her, while she poured her feelings to him. It had been something sacred between them, a small buzz in the back of Scott's mind. Now their link was silent, not raging with emotions. The two were perfectly content to say nothing at all.

"How is everything? Everyone?" Jean asked, breaking the peaceful silence.

The sun rose slowly higher into the sky.

"Not bad," Scott replied. "Logan's still giving hell. Storm's his calm. We're getting more students. Everyone misses you, though. They send their hellos and all that."

Jean nodded, smiling slightly. Scott bent his knee and gingerly draped his arm over it. He stared out into the horizon. Sunrises were always beautiful. The pinkish and orange hues gently touched everything with their light, brushing the dark aside fervently. Closing his eyes, Scott lifted his glasses and rubbed at his sleep-deprived eyes. He knew Jean was watching him.

"I just needed to get away from it all," Scott answered her silent question. "At least for awhile."

"The world doesn't need to rest on your shoulders, Slim," Jean teased, her voice underlying concern for her weary husband.

"No, but it sure does feel like it sometimes," Scott said, sitting up and facing Jean. "Being a dad is harder than packing a bazooka behind each eye. And I'm supposed to be the leader of the X-men."

Jean laughed loudly. Scott sighed. He had missed her laugh. It had always seemed to bring joy to everything it touched.

"Yeah, but you're good at it," Jean conceded. "So, stop worrying so much. After awhile, things sorta fall into place."

Scott smiled. "Is it a parent's instinct or one of those long psychological words?"

"Yeah, something like that." Jean's smile widened.

The grayish dim that covered early mornings began to disappear. The sun sparkled with all its glory ahead of them. It looked to be the start of a beautiful day. Jean stood up abruptly, pulling Scott along with her. The trees nearby rustled slightly, their leaves playing with the sun's golden rays.

"Rachel drew a picture of the family," Scott added, knowing that Jean's time was growing shorter by the second.

"Really?" Jean asked, looking ready to burst with pride for her daughter. Scott felt a pang of sadness. She had always been readily proud of the both of her children no matter what they did. Jean would go and not see them for awhile.

"Yeah," Scott replied, smiling as he remembered his daughter handing him the crayon-drawn picture. "Storm said it was her best work, even though Logan used the word 'hideous'. Ray took it as a compliment though. It's now hanging on the door to her room."

Jean threw her head back and laughed. It took a few moments to compose herself afterwards. When she finally did, she took Scott's hand in hers. They squeezed at the same time.

"I have to go now, Scott," Jean explained.

"I know," Scott said sadly, nodding.

"Give everyone my love," Jean instructed. "Tell Rachel and Nathan that I love them."

"Always," Scott promised.

"Oh, and for God's sake, don't feed them fries and pizza for breakfast."

"Done," Scott complied, looking a bit sheepish.

"And just take care of each other, ok?"

"You don't even have to ask."

Jean let go of Scott's hand slowly and gently.

"And Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

There was a flittering presence against his lips, but was gone just as quickly as it came. Before Scott could tell her he felt the same, Jean was gone. The buzzing in his head did not make a sound. It stayed quiet and dormant, as though a large void in filled space. The sun's light reflected off of Scott's glasses. He looked around and down, finding himself alone with a headstone and the roses he had brought with him. Scott read the stone, burning the words there into his mind.

_Jean Grey-Summers_

_1976-2007_

_Beloved wife, mother, and friend_

_She will rise again_

The light wind blew around Scott, caressing his hair and muttering a reassurance. Scott placed his fingers to his lips before placing them on the headstone, bowing his head sadly. "I love you, too."

Scott drew back and looked up. The wind picked up, almost whispering in his ear. He gave a sad smile and trudged back to the boathouse a small distance away from the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Before he reached the door, Scott heard his children's laughter. He smiled. It was only then he knew that Jean would always be there with him: through the eyes of their children.

_**The End. **_


End file.
